


Dancing in the Rain

by Pangea, velvetcadence



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Charles Is a Darling, Claiming, Erik is Crushing Harder than a 12-year Old Girl, Implied Mpreg, Knotting, M/M, Marking, Protective Erik, Rimming, Size Difference, Smitten Erik, Werewolf Biology, Werewolf Mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 20:37:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1955373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pangea/pseuds/Pangea, https://archiveofourown.org/users/velvetcadence/pseuds/velvetcadence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for <strong>garnetquyen</strong>'s prompt:</p><p>Werewolf AU, write it!</p><p>Werewolf alpha Erik found a human pup Charles alone in the forest and took him back to his lair. Erik protected and cared for the boy, though he was barely a mature wolf himself.</p><p>A few years passed, Charles grew up so pretty, and Erik was afraid he would miss his kind and go back to them, leaving Erik to be alone again - but Charles stayed and chose to be Erik’s mate.</p><p>Art included!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dancing in the Rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GQD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GQD/gifts).



The rain comes on suddenly, the sky sunny and clear one moment and then grey and bleak in the next, abrupt and unpredictable mountain weather living up to its reputation. They’re halfway up a scree slope, sharp rocks loose and liable to sliding out from beneath even Erik’s steady footing, when the drizzle starts, light like a mist at first before slowly growing steadier, the drops falling larger and thicker with each passing minute.

“Erik?” Charles calls uncertainly. He’s a few stretches below from where Erik is, wobbly on his two human legs. He has sturdy boots, of course, Erik would never stand for Charles having anything less than the highest quality gear, but now the already loose rocks are becoming slippery with water as the rain picks up.

Erik swings back around to face him, scenting. He towers over Charles on his higher vantage point, all four paws planted firmly on four separate rocks. Their original plan for scaling the slope had been for him to forage ahead, his naturally surer footing and instincts serving to pick out the best route up the side of the mountain, while Charles was to follow behind, his pace slower and more careful as he does his best to step where Erik has shown him.

Charles doesn’t smell afraid, merely wary. At the first sign of clouds only minutes ago he’d paused to dig his raincoat out of his backpack, putting it on even though the heat must make the jacket stifling. He’s flipped the hood up over his head, waterdrops collecting on the brim just above his face, hanging there and quivering slightly before eventually falling and continuing their downward journey too.

“Are we going to keep going, or turn around?” He says both options without any inflection on either, giving no indication that he’d prefer one over the other. He trusts in Erik, whatever Erik’s decision will be.

The thought makes Erik proud, even as he lashes his bushy tail back and forth as he deliberates. They’re basically at the exact halfway point from the bottom of the slope to the top, so it’s not as if one is closer than the other. Climbing up or down is hazardous for Charles either way. It’s truly up to Erik’s whim alone.

Lightning spikes across the sky, followed by a loud crack of thunder that shakes the stones beneath Erik’s paws and echoes through the valley below, the sound rebounding multiple times off the surrounding mountain peaks. Charles flinches at the loudness of the sound, and while he’s still not afraid, Erik can smell that he’s starting to get nervous, his own human instincts reacting to the danger of being out on the side of a mountain in a thunderstorm while Erik’s wolf instincts are indifferent and calm.

Erik turns himself fully around, facing down the slope towards Charles. It’s easy to navigate the few short yards of distance between them, picking his way back down to where Charles stands waiting. A few smaller rocks tumble down the slope at Erik’s movements but none of them are a danger to Charles, so Erik lets them slide.

“Hello,” Charles greets him with a small laugh when Erik reaches him, pushing his nose against the wet front of his jacket. He reaches up and scratches behind Erik’s ears, uncaring how Erik’s fur is matted and coarse from the rain. “What’s the plan, then?”

Careful not to knock into Charles and send him plunging down the slope, Erik maneuvers around so that he’s facing up the mountainside again, his back even with where Charles stands. He looks over his shoulder and cocks his head, letting out a huff of breath that isn’t quite a bark or a growl.

Charles puts a hand on his back, petting him absently. The touch isn’t something Erik would tolerate from anyone else, but Charles is different. Charles has always been different, from when Erik found him lost and alone as a mere pup years ago in the woods, blue eyes wet with tears and shaking with fear until he caught sight of Erik gliding out from beneath the trees. He’d looked up at Erik, eyes wide but curious, and then had reached for him with all the naive innocence of a baby and Erik couldn’t bring himself to harm the human pup in his territory. Not when that human pup had been the first living creature in a long, long time to look at him without any trace of fear.

Lightning strikes again, followed by another earsplitting crack of thunder. Charles doesn’t hesitate any longer, fisting his hands in the thick fur at the scruff of Erik’s neck and pulling himself up onto Erik’s broad back, swinging one leg over his ribs so that he straddles him like a horse. Erik stands still patiently, waiting for Charles to adjust and settle, shifting his legs slightly to compensate for the new added weight.

Charles on his back is familiar, and it feels like he hasn’t gotten any heavier at all throughout the years, even though Erik knows this isn’t true. The first time he’d carried Charles had been the same day they’d met, Charles not even yet seven and Erik barely out of his own adolescent years himself. He’d tried picking the human pup up by the scruff of his shirt at first, but that had only resulted in Charles nearly choking and a fresh new wave of tears, much to Erik’s alarm. Things had gone much smoother when Erik laid down on his belly, low enough for the pup to be able to reach and climb on.

“All set,” Charles says now in the present, shaking Erik out of his ruminations. He slides his fingers through Erik’s fur, grabbing onto two large tuffs with either hand and giving a gentle tug to signal his readiness.

Erik bounds up the scree slope, speed no longer a factor to consider now that Charles is traveling with him rather than following him. He has to compensate a little, picking only rocks that look stable enough to bear both of their weight without sliding out from beneath them, but he still makes good time. Charles is a considerate rider, sitting with his weight distributed evenly and not tugging too hard on Erik’s fur even as he clings on strongly enough to not be thrown off.

They reach the top of the slope just as more lightning flashes, this time directly overhead and the resulting thunder nearly deafens Erik for a moment, so loud that he snorts out a breath and shakes his ringing head to clear it.

“Erik,” Charles says, the scent of his nervousness growing stronger even in the rain, “we need to find some shelter to wait the rest of the storm out.”

Erik growls low, not menacing or angry, but merely a reassuring rumble to let Charles know that he’s heard. They’re not at the top of the mountain by any means but they have reached a plateau of sorts, where the ground slopes considerably less than where they were just climbing. A cluster of tall pine trees have found root here, growing proud and straight despite the uneven ground. They’re only a couple hundred yards away, a small stretch of open grass between them and the promise of shelter.

Erik promptly sits, causing Charles to slide down off his back. When Charles steps up beside him, brushing some of Erik’s wet fur off of his jeans, Erik snaps his teeth playfully, nudging Charles forward.

“What?” Charles takes a stumbling step forward, looking back at Erik over his shoulder.

Erik growls again but wags his tail, which he normally finds undignified except it’s worth it because it never fails to make Charles smile.

Sure enough, Charles grins, blue eyes crinkling with amusement beneath the hood of his jacket. “Seriously, Erik—”

Erik snaps his teeth again and leaps back up to his feet, streaking past Charles and then the chase is on. Charles runs after him, laughing and uncaring as the knee-high grass quickly soaks his jeans, but his two human legs are no match for Erik’s four wolf legs. Erik outpaces him swiftly, diving back around to circle behind him so now he’s the one doing the chasing, mock-snarling just to get Charles’ adrenaline pumping.

Charles puts on an extra burst of speed, his laughter a little breathless now, so Erik coils his muscle and jumps, pouncing on Charles from behind and flattening him without outright crushing him. The tall grass acts as an excellent cushion as Charles goes down with an indignant gasp, and Erik uses one paw to roll the smaller human over onto his back before settling over him completely, pinning him down in place.

“Get off of me,” Charles says, but his voice holds no real heat and he’s still smiling, reaching up to tug lightly on one of Erik’s ears. “One of these days you’re going to smush me, and you’ll regret it.”

Erik merely allows his tongue to loll lazily out of his mouth as he pants, pleased with himself for catching his quarry. Charles smells content, even despite the fact that he’s sopping wet now from the combined efforts of the rain and grass, obediently still and limp under Erik’s hold. Erik likes him there, where he can hold Charles down and keep him safe from all outside forces, wholly under Erik’s protection. It feels good. It feels right.

Without entirely realizing what he’s doing, Erik presses his nose up against the small hollow of Charles’ throat, inhaling deeply. Charles always smells good, whether he’s freshly cleaned or hot and sweaty after a long day of hiking. There’s something about his scent that Erik is hardwired to appreciate, alluring and sweet like the best kind of—

Temptation, Erik thinks very deliberately and is suddenly aware of how Charles has frozen beneath him, head tilted back to give Erik better access to his throat. A sign of submission to a dominant alpha wolf, but Charles also smells...anticipatory.

He watches the lightning overhead flash in Charles’ eyes, and then it truly begins to pour.

Erik climbs off of Charles, tugging him gently back up to his feet with his teeth clamped on the front of Charles’ jacket, and together they run for the trees. Erik keeps pace with Charles, sharp eyes watching for any signs of faltering or tripping as the human sprints for cover. Charles is sure-footed and agile, though, and soon they’re safely beneath the large branches of the pines.

Charles slows to a halt, panting, but Erik keeps going, trotting forward and looking back over his shoulder and huffing once to get Charles’ attention. “I’m coming,” he says, and follows Erik deeper into the small grove of trees while more lightning flashes. The pine trees don’t keep them completely covered from the downpour, pine needles serving as poor shelter from the rain, but Erik leads Charles into the deepest part of the stand where the branches are so thick and crowded together that only a few trickles of raindrops make it through.

Erik scents the air carefully while Charles shrugs off his backpack, setting it down to rest against one of the thick tree trunks. The rain makes it hard to pick up on most scents, everything watered down or washed away completely, but he smells no traces of other werewolves here, which is good. He’s never been one for intruding on someone else’s territory, but he doesn’t want to be sitting here blindly if they accidentally have.

He smells nothing but the pine trees, however, and the fresh scent of rain, and then Charles, who’s dug out his water bottle and is drinking deeply, throat moving tantalizingly as he swallows. He lowers the bottle slowly when he’s done, wiping his mouth. His cheeks are flushed, both from their run and from the confining heat of his raincoat.

Erik considers. It’s safe enough here. No other werewolves have come by here, at least in a long time. Decision made, he closes his eyes and wills himself to Change, transforming from his purely wolf form to something that’s closer to human, pushing himself up to stand on two legs instead of four. It’s quick and painless, though Charles has assured him numerous times that it’s a little grotesque to watch, and soon Erik’s opening his eyes again, flexing humanlike hands.

“Think we’ll be here awhile, then?” Charles asks him from where he watches.

“The storm will be over us for awhile, yes,” Erik answers, the words rumbling up from his new and different vocal chords. He walks over to Charles, heedless of the pine needles beneath his bare feet, and tugs lightly on Charles’ sleeve. “Take this off, you’re going to overheat.”

Charles has to tilt his head back slightly to meet his gaze; even in this form Erik still towers over him. “I’m already wet enough, thanks to that romp out there. I want to keep at least my head dry so I don’t get sick.”

“I’ll keep you dry.”

Charles laughs. “How so? Are you a were-umbrella too and I just haven’t been aware all this time?”

Erik snorts, and takes him by the elbows, guiding him backwards until he’s pressed back against a tree trunk. Erik leans over him then, bracketing him with his arms and body against the tree. “Like this.”

Charles swallows, dropping his arms down at his sides and resting against the bark. “Alright.”

He strips out of the jacket, giving a soft sigh of relief when he’s freed his arms from the confining sleeves. Underneath he’s wearing a simple t-shirt, and how dry it is looks odd compared to his mostly soaked jeans. Erik takes the jacket from him and hangs it by the hood on a low branch out of the way, satisfied.

Despite lacking the raincoat now, the faint flush in Charles’ cheeks remains as he looks up at Erik. “You don’t mind the rain, then? Even if you’re not a wolf?”

 

 

Erik shows his teeth in a grin, letting out a low laugh in the scant space left between them as he looms over Charles. “I’m always a wolf.”

Charles rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Erik considers. The light trickle of raindrops against bare human skin is annoying compared to how he knows it feels against thick and protective fur, but he can’t complain, not when he has Charles boxed in safely beneath him, contained where no one but he can reach him.

He’s felt like this about Charles ever since he first brought the human pup back to his lair, when he’d deposited the tiny human within the warm, safe confines of his well-hidden and well-guarded cave. Erik has always been a loner, even back then, and it had only taken one whiff of Charles with his powerful nose to determine that the pup was an omega, and from there it’d been pure and natural alpha instinct: Charles was Pack. It didn’t matter that Charles was a human, Charles was to be protected.

It was easier when Charles was still a pup, small and easier to see as his ward. But as the years passed, and Charles grew and matured, Erik had found himself grappling with an entirely different alpha instinct: Charles is an omega, and Charles is _lovely_.

“Erik?” Charles asks uncertainly, and it takes Erik a moment to remember his original question.

“I don’t mind it,” he answers, giving a small shake. The motion isn’t as effective as it would be if he were still in his wolf form, but it does dislodge some of the water drops sliding down his bare back. “As long as you’re comfortable.”

“Well, you’re no umbrella,” Charles says with a cheeky grin, “but you’ll do.”

Erik had tried to send Charles away once, when he realized that his instincts were driving him to claim Charles, the only omega—the only _person_ —in his Pack as a mate. Erik is an alpha, but he’s a werewolf. He’d thought at the time that Charles deserved someone better, someone of his own kind, a human alpha. It had been one of the worst fights they’d ever had, Erik snarling at Charles to leave, that he was free to go, that he was no longer Pack.

Charles had been incendiary.

“It’s my choice,” he’d shouted at Erik, a heady mix of hurt and anger fueling his words, back straight and stiff with his fists clenched at his sides, “I don’t care if you’re an alpha and the head of our Pack, it’s still _my choice_ whether I stay or go. I may just be an omega, but you don’t get to make that decision for me. _I_ make that decision for me, and I want to _stay_.”

Erik had left in a huff and retreated back into the den to sulk. He just wanted what was best for Charles, was it truly so difficult to understand? An alpha werewolf was no company for any proper, sane omega. Charles had lingered outside, likewise still stewing in his own temper, muttering about Erik’s stupid alpha nature and his stupid misguided attempts at protection. When he entered the cavern by nightfall, he had gathered enough tall grasses for weaving bundled on his arm.

Dinner had been quiet and solemn, and by the end of it, even Erik tired of keeping his anger aflame. “I’m dangerous, you know. You should be with your own kind.”

Charles snipped the ends of his grasses, his mouth pursed in his unhappiness. Erik’s heart gave a twinge at that. To think that _he_ was the cause of Charles’ discomfort! “Dangerous, of course. Dangerous. You, who sheltered and fed me and protected me since childhood. You, who tended to my wounds when I fell and stood vigil at my bedside when I was ill. Dangerous! Ha!” The grip on his knife shook with his emotion, and Erik smelled blood as it welled up on the human’s finger. Charles paid it no mind as he directed his burning gaze at Erik. “You want to protect me? Let me stay here. Do you know what my kind did to me? They killed my parents. They looted my home. I hear they even rape young unprotected omegas. That’s the kind of life you’ll be banishing me to if you make me leave.”

“Charles…”

“Don’t ask me again. Please.” Charles had let Erik come closer and bandage the nick on his finger, and they never spoke a word about the matter again.

Right now Erik is glad that Charles had fought for his right to stay. The humidity is making the smell of him stronger, saturating the air and Erik’s lungs until it’s all he can do not to nose at his hairline and scent deeply. He looks—not quite like prey, Charles could never be prey—but he looks caught, all the same, all large blue eyes the color of the sky and a small, kissable mouth gone slack at what he finds on Erik’s face. He’s so beautiful Erik thinks he can just look at him all his days and nights.

The air has charged itself with electricity, and Erik can’t help but press closer, instinctively wanting more. The bark must be rough against Charles’ thin shirt, but he doesn’t look like he cares much for it; instead his hands come up and rest on Erik’s hips. Erik is so tall that even with Charles looking up, his breath only puffs against Erik’s collarbone, fast and warm, in tune with the quickening of his heartbeat.

“Erik,” Charles gasps, palms like searing brands when they grasp his sides. The musk of his want unfolds like a flower, pure omega sweetness, and a pleased rumble forces its way out of Erik’s chest and throat.

“Charles,” Erik growls, and he means for it to come out rich and deep but instead it sounds closer to a plea as he presses closer still. His bare front against Charles’ clothes feels nothing short of obscene, the fabric catching and dragging on his skin while Charles shudders, a small sound slipping out past his lips when Erik’s hardening cock slots into place at Charles’ groin between his legs. “Tell me to stop,” he whispers, even as he rocks his hips forward, “tell me to stop and I will.”

“It’s my choice,” Charles says over the sound of the rain that whites out the rest of the world, so that it’s just the two of them pressed close together in their own private little universe, “it’s my choice, Erik, and I want—I want y—”

Erik crushes their lips together, pushing his tongue into Charles’ parted lips and licking and tasting every part of him, chasing down the sound of a needy whimper. Charles tastes just as he smells, sweet and fresh, the perfect cocktail of want and desire, sending Erik’s alpha hormones into overdrive as he reacts to Charles’ omega pheromones that permeate his senses until his mind is nothing but a cacophony of _matematemateclaimclaimclaim **mine**_.

Charles leans up into the kiss, his eyes fluttering shut as he tilts his head back and lets Erik take, his mouth soft and pliant beneath Erik’s. Erik feels something rend inside him, bent until snapping, and he hasn’t ever believed that he’d be allowed to have this, to have Charles, even after Charles chose to stay. He’s been pining for years, quietly and unobtrusively, never wishing to impose himself on Charles—he’d been all too aware, after all, of their precarious position of single dominant alpha with a pack consisting of one unbonded omega—but never once has it crossed his mind, even hopefully, that Charles would ever want him back.

Charles moans against Erik’s mouth when Erik pushes him back against the tree even more, pinning him in place and deepening the kiss. Lightning flashes overhead followed by rumbling thunder but the storm might as well be happening on another planet for all the attention Erik pays it, all of his focus narrowed down to Charles and only Charles. His omega.

Well. Not yet. But he will be.

Erik’s cock is hard, arousal burgeoned by the scent of a ready and compatible omega, jutting up long and thick between their bellies. He breaks off their kiss to rut languidly against Charles, a low, deep and continuous growl reverberating up out of him at the drag of his sensitive skin on Charles’ flat belly while Charles squirms, panting and made to hold still in Erik’s grip. He imagines what Charles will look like, round and heavy with his pups, and just the mental image is enough for him to tighten his grip on Charles’ forearms until it must be near painful before he leans down and sinks his teeth into the soft tendons of Charles’ neck and shoulder.

Charles cries out, his entire body jerking beneath Erik’s, a sharp jab of fear and pain flooding Erik’s nose before it gives way to arousal, Charles’ body going entirely limp. It’s not the exact proper location of a claiming mark—that will come later, if Charles allows it, and Erik will set his teeth into the nape of Charles’ neck—but Charles’ reaction is a purely instinctual one, a clear demonstration of his willing readiness.

His teeth don’t draw blood, but there will be a mark. Possibly bruises as well. It’s satisfying, on a very base and primal level.

He could be content if the world ceased turning to trap them in this moment: his mate safe and secure under his arms, the taste of him warm and sweet in Erik’s tongue as they build up a rhythm and gently rock together, grinding themselves slowly into a frenzy. Erik wants everything that Charles can offer, taste, scent and body heat spurring the werewolf into a mating rut.

It suddenly isn’t enough, even like this. Erik pulls the collar of Charles’ shirt apart in his impatience, his claws ripping the hem of the fabric. It would be... _barbaric_ is the word humans often used when they referred to wolves of Erik’s kind, but even clouded by Charles’ omega pheromones he’s careful not to savage a hair on Charles’ skin, so strong is his prerogative to _mate_ and _protect_.

Charles doesn’t seem to care at all, practically falling into Erik’s arms. When he reaches up, ruined shirt still hanging by his shoulder, Erik can’t help but grab him by his ass, hefting him up and bringing them so much more closer together. He presses him against the tree again and falls into Charles’ hungry kiss, growling when the human’s legs wrap themselves around his waist. He thrusts, once, bucks up into the wet cloth covering Charles’ rear (wet with rain and slick, Erik thinks, mind racing with the thought of it, slickwetholeneedtofuckfuckfuck—)

They need to get Charles’ pants off before Erik rips it to shred like he did with the shirt. Erik needs to put Charles down, catch his breath, mate him somewhere a little more comfortable.

 _Take him!_ His mind clamors, however, snarling with his frustration. _Now! Now now now nownownownow!_

Charles mewls when Erik stops kissing him. He looks dazed when he opens his eyes, wondering at the pause, his mouth red and swollen. Erik is struggling with himself, his fingers digging into the soft plushness of Charles’ buttocks, still holding him aloft.

“Erik?” He asks, and his voice is deeper than Erik’s ever heard it, making a shiver run down his spine.

“Take your clothes off,” he murmurs, and his teeth are itching to claim Charles for himself, to dig them into the soft, virgin skin at the back of Charles’ neck.

The omega’s cheeks are ruddy when Erik sets him down back on his feet, swaying slightly. They part just enough for Charles to be able to peel the remains of his shirt off his shoulders, his eyes riveted to the stiff length of Erik’s cock. It makes Erik preen, just a bit, to know that his mate finds him so desirable and distracting.

Charles finally shucks his boots and finally steps out of his pants, looking pale and perfect in the middle of all the green, his cock likewise straining towards his belly, colored the same deep red as his lips. It makes Erik stalk forward and grab him by the waist again, their limbs tangling around each other. Above them, the storm surges, its power rivaled only by the storm between their bodies.

Erik carries him up again, wanting to feel Charles all around him. They rub together tantalizingly in a hard, slow grind. Erik drinks in Charles’ moans before they can echo around the wood, despite the rain drowning out most of the sound. There’s no doubt that Charles should be shivering, naked in the midst of the outpour, but his skin barely feels chilled at all. His own skin must feel like a furnace to Charles, werewolf metabolism being what it is.

“Fuck me,” Charles breaks the kiss to catch his breath, one hand tangled in Erik’s hair to pull him back and look him in the eye. “I want your knot.” Erik’s claws dig in Charles’ thighs despite himself, and it’s so difficult to keep in control when Charles speaks like that.

Erik doesn’t do anything more than take a few steps further to deposit Charles on soft, mossy ground. If this were done with the proper courting, Charles would be warm and dry in a den of their own making. Instead, they’re in the middle of the wood in the midst of a storm, not at all how proper omegas should be claimed. Still, Charles is no less magnificent for it, grown so lovely and responsive under Erik’s touch. Erik towers over him especially like this with Charles sitting on the moss and Erik standing, the better to admire Charles’ upward gaze.

Even now, he’s trying to shield Charles from the rain despite the fact that they’re both naked and soaked to the bone. Erik wonders if the whole life he’d known with Charles was a glacial-paced courtship, and if it was always going to end up with the two of them bonding as alpha and omega.

Charles gently squeezes Erik’s ankle as he blinks raindrops out of his eyes. It’s an absent-minded movement, a familiar gesture, and in a moment where it seems Erik can barely breathe with the taste and scent of Charles permeating his sense and clouding his judgment, it serves as a welcome reminder.

They want the same thing. The future is suddenly full of possibility.

Then Charles turns, gets on his hands and knees, and _presents_.

If Erik wasn’t already half-caught up in the wild rush of hormones and alpha instinct before he definitely is now, letting out a sound that’s close to a snarl as he lunges forward to cover Charles’ body with his own, nearly bearing him all the way down against the moss and crushing him in place. His arms bracket Charles’, claws digging into the moss and soft soil beneath, chest pressed against the long line of Charles’ spine. He pushes his nose into Charles’ hair at the back of his head, breathing in all of Charles’ scent deeply, as if he doesn’t already have every last note memorized already.

It’s heady and intoxicating, just like every part of Charles.

Charles whines when Erik draws back, though he doesn’t go far, sitting back on his haunches and placing one hand between Charles’ shoulder blades, fingers splayed out wide. He pushes down, gentle but firm, until Charles’ arms fold and his chest presses against the moss in a full-body tilt, putting his ass on even better display. Charles squirms, rubbing his pert little nipples against the moss, but he stills immediately when Erik slides his hand up to rest on the back of his neck.

“Erik,” he gasps out as Erik trails one finger down his spine, sliding the digit between two pale, round asscheeks. Charles is already slick here, and when Erik probes further, fingerpad finding Charles’ hole, already clenching open-shut, open-shut, both of them groan at the wet glide, at the fact that Charles is so wet and ready for him, at the nearly overwhelming drive to mate.

Erik gives Charles’ neck a firm squeeze, a command to stay still, and then draws his hand up to join with his first, digging his thumbs into the flesh of Charles’ ass and drawing his cheeks apart to expose his hole. Charles’ musk is stronger now, Erik’s nostrils flaring at the scent of omega, and without pause he leans down and licks across Charles’ entrance.

Charles’ shout is swallowed by a loud crack of thunder, but Erik feels him jerk, rocking forward helplessly. Erik laps at his hole again, running the tip of his tongue around the ring of muscle and holding Charles fast when he jerks again, forcing him to stay still and endure the teasing. Charles has no leverage anyway, in the position Erik’s put him in, and his gasps and whimpers are glorious over the sound of the rain while Erik tastes him, sweet and potent. He could hold Charles here for hours at his leisure, Erik decides, just to lick him into incoherency, but right now he has more urgent matters to attend.

Still, he can’t resist one last swipe with his tongue, pushing in a little past that ring of muscle so that Charles cries out, gushing a little more slick and legs trembling, twisting under Erik’s grip until Erik quiets him again, pulling back to rub one hand soothingly against his lower back. Charles’ taste is thick on his tongue, Erik’s new favorite flavor of _anything_.

“Knot me, Erik,” Charles pleads, and it rocks Erik to his core to hear his proud, strong Charles close to outright begging, rocking restlessly in Erik’s grip but still obediently holding the same position Erik coaxed him into, “I want it, I _need_ it—”

Erik growls, the closest form of speech he’s currently capable of, and slides his hands further apart to grip at Charles’ hips, fingers indenting on sweaty skin. It is an alpha’s sacred duty to protect and _provide_ for his or her omega—what Charles wants, Charles will get.

Erik aligns their bodies, distantly surprised to find that Charles isn’t the only one who’s trembling, every nerve a livewire charged by the lightning overhead, whole body thrumming with anticipation. The head of his cock brushes against Charles’ hole, jolting them both. Erik watches for a moment, mesmerized by the sight of his straining cock resting just outside of Charles’ greedy entrance that tries to suck him in, still clenching open-shut, open-shut while Charles whimpers again, the beautiful curve of his back bowing up and down as he tries to work himself backwards on the soft mossy ground to take Erik in.

“Mine,” Erik snarls, rolling his hips forward, and with resounding finality he finally breaches Charles fully, sinking down into tight, wet heat and sliding his cock into his mate in one fluid motion.

Charles moans loudly, but Erik can only hear it distantly, muffled by the pounding in his ears. It’s too much, all of a sudden, too much and not enough, and it’s only by the grace of his immense self-control that he stops himself from pounding furiously into the omega beneath him.

“Fuck, Charles,” he growls as Charles tightens impossibly further. He’s tensed up under Erik, the muscles of his shoulders tight when Erik nuzzles at them. It almost hurts with how vice-like Charles grips around him down there, a pain so exquisite he might possibly die from it.

“A-Ah! Wait,” Charles sobs, and Erik snaps out of his reverie just enough to rub his cheek against his mate’s, to tilt his face around for a slightly difficult kiss, tongue soothing circles into Charles’ own. Charles whimpers, and Erik can’t help his hips from stuttering at the needy sound. “Erik, wait. H-hurts…”

“I‘m sorry,” Erik slurs, feeling punch drunk from the hormones Charles’ body is pumping out. “Whenever you’re ready,” he rumbles, shaking with so much restless energy, his hindbrain clamoring for _mate, fuck, now._ His heart is beating so hard it’s echoing through his body and through Charles’ where they’re connected; Charles makes another weak sound when Erik’s cock twitches inside him.

It’s a small eternity before Charles calms down enough to unclench where he’d been unconsciously doing so. The fog in Erik’s brain clears slightly, and he’s suddenly aware that the rain is pounding against his back. He’s immensely glad to have Charles safe under him where he can nestle against the heat of Erik’s chest.

He growls when Charles’ hips roll under him, fucking himself onto Erik’s cock. The movement is still tentative, however, and Erik nearly groans with the combined sensation of tight, slick omega surrounding his cock and the herculean effort it is to not respond to the motion. It doesn’t help that Charles does it again, making himself gasp, a small, desperate sound that goes right to Erik’s cock which gives another twitch in Charles’ ass.

“My pace first,” Charles gasps out, turning his head sideways again to rest one cheek on the moss so he can look back at Erik with one teary blue eye, “p-please?”

It’s killing Erik a little, alpha instincts practically trying to claw their way out, but this is his Charles. “Anything,” he grits out, quivering where he holds himself up above Charles so that their only point of contact is his cock buried in the omega’s ass, “just _move_.”

“You too,” Charles whispers, starting to slowly undulate his hips, “like this, darling, like—”

Erik rocks down to meet him, _gently_ , at the pace Charles has tried to start and the rest of what Charles was saying is lost in a high, needy moan. His body jerks beneath Erik’s, fingers digging into the moss but Erik keeps moving, plunging his cock in and out of Charles’ body at a steady, even rate until Charles’ mouth has fallen open, gasping and panting for breath. Every forward thrust is a smooth glide forward, slick leaking liberally from Charles’ hole, and every time Erik pulls back it’s a drag of skin on skin that makes him hiss, stomach muscles flexing. His strokes may be slow but they contain all of his considerable strength which means that Charles’ entire body drags back and forth against the moss with every thrust and pull, rubbing his chest and nipples against the soft green and making him squirm.

Now that Erik has gotten used to the slower pace—it’s just enough to quench the inferno of mating instinct within him to manageable levels while still keeping Charles unharmed—he finds that he likes it. Every gasp for breath that falls from Charles’ lips is beautiful, all the more perfect sounds because it’s Erik who’s making Charles give them. Eventually once they’ve mated and bonded Charles will be able to take his cock with no resistance, his body a glove for Erik to fit into, but there’s something novel and quaint about having to gently work him up to it this first time, pushing in deeper and deeper with each forward thrust, guiding Charles and teaching his body to take his cock exactly how Erik wants.

No one else will be able to fuck him like this. No one else will be able to fuck him at all period. Charles is his omega, and he belongs fully to Erik.

“A-ah,” Charles moans when Erik’s hips give an involuntary hitch, juddering forward at the thought and disrupting his even rhythm, “E-Erik, oh, oh, _oh_ —”

Erik fucks into him, picking up the pace just a little but keeping enough presence of mind to watch for any signs of pain or protest from Charles’ end. Charles merely rolls his hips to match him, a litany of half-formed syllables pouring from his lips on shortened breath. He’s loosened now, his muscles surrounding Erik lax and at ease, and with his sharp ears Erik can hear the soft and deliciously obscene squelch of Charles’ slick over the sound of the rain. He’s absolutely gorgeous, his perfect omega form yielding beneath Erik and he is all Erik has _ever wanted_ —

“ _Charles_ ,” Erik chokes out without quite meaning to, the name forcing itself out past Erik’s lips that are pulled back in a snarl. Charles shudders at the guttural growl, his answering whimper invoking something primal in Erik, deep and untapped and purely alpha responding to omega as he surges forward, thrusting his cock all the way into Charles and plastering his chest along Charles’ back.

“Erik,” Charles sobs, freezing beneath him as Erik pulls his lips back even further from his teeth, opening his jaws wide and lightly setting them into the soft, pale skin at the omega’s nape.

Erik falls still too. His heart is pounding, strong and virile body pulsing with energy and the rush of blood. He is acutely aware of each cold drop of rain that lands on his bare back, of the dampness of the moss beneath his hands and knees, of the long line of warmth that is Charles’ body pressed against his front that ends in tight, wet heat where his cock is buried to the balls in sweet omega flesh, holding Charles open for himself. His nose is once again brushing against the soft curls of Charles’ hair, damp with sweat and rain, and he aches to dig his teeth in and bite down on Charles’ skin and make Charles officially his but he holds back.

“May I,” he growls, lips brushing against Charles’ skin as he continues to hold his jaw open. He feels Charles shiver, but presses on, “May I, Charles, be mine, please be mine, be _mine_ —”

“Yes,” Charles answers, the confirmation coming out as a sigh. He shifts beneath Erik slightly, clenching down gently on Erik’s cock to pull another rumbling growl out of the depths of Erik’s chest. “Yes, Erik, I’m yours. I’ve _always_ been yours.” He moves again, rolling his hips as best as he can, letting out a low laugh when Erik snarls. “And you’ve always been mine. Mark me. I want _your_ mark, so other alphas will know to stay away, that I’ve been claimed, that my alpha is the strongest and—”

Erik bites down hard enough to draw blood, setting his mark into Charles’ skin, marking his territory, what is rightfully his. Charles lets out a long, high wail, twisting instinctively in Erik’s merciless hold but Erik bites down harder, keeping him pinned in place by his teeth and cock, not allowing his thrashing omega to escape his grasp. It’s expected for Charles to fight his claim even when seconds ago he was demanding Erik’s mark; an old standby of biology to weed out weaker alphas from the genepool if they’re not strong enough to keep their omega from throwing them off before the mating ritual can be completed and before pups can be conceived.

Right now Erik feels invincible, not budging an inch even while Charles struggles, snarling and whimpering in equal measures. He may be only human and not a werewolf like Erik, but everyone knows that other than the peaks of their heat, it’s during the marking that all omegas are at their most feral. Erik tastes Charles’ blood, tangy and sweet, lapping at the wound he’s inflicted even while keeping his jaw locked down on Charles’ nape, letting his saliva start its natural process of ensuring that the mark will heal without infection but still leave an obvious, all-important and claiming scar.

Charles is his now. All that’s left to complete their bond is to knot him, and they’ll be mated for life.

Charles goes limp beneath Erik at long last, drawing in harsh, shuddering breaths where he lies half-collapsed down on the soft bed of moss, ass still up in the air with Erik buried deep inside. Erik is proud of him for putting up a fight for so long. His omega is strong, and a strong omega means strong pups. Gently, he slowly opens his jaws, releasing his iron grip on Charles’ nape only to lap gently at the rest of the blood, placing several intentionally sloppy, open-mouthed kisses on the back of Charles’ neck to clean the wound entirely. Charles remains still the entire time, quiet and almost docile beneath Erik while Erik takes care of him, wincing only once when Erik tongues a particularly deep laceration that must sting.

“I want your knot, Erik,” he says, his voice low and raspy. He turns his head sideways again, one thick curl of hair plastered against his forehead, his cheeks flushed a lovely red. “Knot me, give it to me, give me all you’ve got. I _want_ you, Erik, please. _Please_.”

“Whatever you want,” Erik says, aching in an entirely different way now. Charles is _his_. This is real. His mate. His love. He considers for a moment, and then pulls out of Charles completely.

Charles gives a cry of dismay, eyes widening as Erik sits back on his haunches. He doesn’t allow the confusion to last, snaking his hands underneath Charles to grab him by the middle and flip him over, settling him on his back so that now they’re face-to-face as Erik pushes his throbbing, straining cock back in. They groan in unison as he bottoms out with no resistance at all, Charles’ body yielding to him perfectly this time.

“This is different,” Charles chokes out, his back halfway up into an arch and his legs splayed over Erik’s thighs. His cock stands up against his belly, leaking precome and straining for release, but his gaze remains locked with Erik’s and his hands have slid up to grip Erik’s forearms lightly, waiting for his alpha’s cue.

“This is better,” Erik answers, baring his teeth in a smirk, “and now it’s my turn to set the pace.”

He doesn’t give Charles time to form a response, snapping his hips forward to hear Charles moan, diving down to seal their lips together as he starts to move. Charles gasps into the kiss, writhing beneath Erik as Erik sets a brutal pace this time, fucking into him as if both their lives depend on it, hard and fast and deep. Their teeth clash as Erik fucks his tongue into Charles’ mouth at the same rate, as if he wants to devour Charles whole. Charles breaks away from the kiss and tosses his head back breathlessly, chest heaving, gasping and stuttering as Erik takes him, unable to even form anything coherent.

Erik growls, hips pistoning, driving his cock into Charles as heat begins to coil in his belly, a loaded spring that’s getting closer and closer to snapping into release. He drops his head down to mouth at Charles’ throat, licking and nipping at him and putting more marks on his mate. Charles will look so lovely with a necklace of bites and bruises around his throat like a collar, undeniable proof to everyone that he’s been claimed. He feels Charles’ arms wrap around him, hands clutching at Erik’s back and moving up and down restlessly. Erik inhales deeply, breathing in that sweet omega musk that is half arousal, half inherently Charles’ distinct scent that Erik is practically programmed to be driven wild by.

Charles’ body is starting to clench around him, practically sobbing as Erik continues to drive into him with his relentless pace, and he comes with a ragged cry that makes Erik want to tilt his head back with an accompanying howl. Charles’ come splashes against his stomach in a hot and sticky wash while Charles’ fingers dig in into Erik’s shoulders, fingernails leaving marks. Erik fucks him through it, his own impending releasing winding tighter and tighter in his core, his knot starting to swell—

Erik snarls as he slams his hips forward one last time, burying his cock deep inside Charles as his knot expands at last, locking them in place and tying them together. Charles’ spine arches up, his chest pushing up against Erik’s with a long, drawn out moan that seems to tear its way free of his vocal chords, body spasming around Erik’s cock before clenching down almost painfully tight. Erik grunts, half-collapsing down on top of Charles as he shoots off inside him, filling his mate with his come.

It’s still raining, thunder rumbling all around them while flashes of lighting light up the trees, but Charles is warm and safe beneath him. They pant together, loud in their close proximity, and as he catches his breath Erik gazes down at his mate, utterly captivated. Charles’ eyes are half-lidded, the smile he musters up loopy and lazy as he drifts in the same calming stupor all omegas experience while knotted, a biological function that serves as extra insurance that the knot remains locked in place.

Heart full, Erik can’t help but pet his damp hair gently, getting his arm underneath Charles’ back to cradle his head with his other hand. “Good?” he asks, his voice hoarse and rasping, punctuated by another burst of come that causes Charles to shiver.

“You’re so big,” Charles says dreamily, flexing slowly with a breathy sigh. He’s utterly relaxed and completely content in Erik’s hold, his scent warm with affection. With a chuckle Erik leans down to catch his lips in a soft kiss, slow and gentle just as they’d started out. Even though his knot is still fully expanded and locked tightly in place he starts to rock his hips, shifting it inside Charles just enough to build up friction again, relishing in the feeling of Charles’ cock slowly filling again where it’s trapped between them.

“It’s alright,” Erik murmurs against Charles’ lips when Charles breaks from their kiss with a whimper, squirming where he’s pinned on Erik’s cock, “I’ve got you.”

With the knot, movement is limited, but Erik circumvents around it by moving his hips in small circular motions, stimulating the glands inside Charles that make him throw his head back and let out a throaty moan. There’s no mistaking the hardness between their bellies then. It says so much of their compatibility as alpha and omega Erik wonders how he ever doubted. He can probably make Charles come just like this, wrench another rippling orgasm that will in turn make Erik spurt hot seed again, prolonging the knot.

Charles is soft and ever so lovely underneath him, and Erik can’t help but suckle at one of his nipples, rolling his tongue over the bud. He’ll smell even sweeter when Erik’s seed takes and makes him round and plush, glowing with his own fecundity. More than anything, he wants to see a pup sleeping in Charles’ arms, his own little pack. For that, though, he’ll have to keep Charles knotted for as long as possible.

Charles doesn’t protest when Erik pulls them into a sitting position, trusting his alpha with his weight, which makes Erik grin with pride. He’s nearly insensate save for the flutter of his muscles around Erik’s cock.

“Come on, sweet thing. Ride me,” Erik coaxes, dragging Charles’ arms over his shoulders and manually rolling his hips into Erik’s knot. It takes a minute for Charles to clear his head, but afterwards he shudders, fingers digging into Erik’s back as he settles his knees more securely into the moss and fucking himself firmly at the spot that makes his eyes roll back in pleasure. “Good,” Erik praises, his voice rumbling against Charles’ shoulder where he’s biting another claiming bruise—the ache and the vibration makes his omega keen and clamp down as orgasm seizes his entire body, his come shooting up onto Erik’s chest. It’s much less ejaculate than before, and Erik suspects the orgasms after this will be dry. He’s desperate to find out.

Right now, Charles’ ass is rippling around his knot and wrenching another pulse of come from Erik. The world ceases to exist for one long, glorious moment, and Erik can barely breathe with how much he loves Charles and wants him permeating every aspect of his life.

Somehow he finds himself back in his previous position, shielding Charles from the rain with his body, clinging to him with all four limbs. Erik’s muscles ache pleasantly from exertion, but he’s nowhere near collapsing his dead weight over his hapless mate. Deliriously, he thinks, he could go on with fucking Charles over and over again.

“Yes, darling,” Charles says, peppering kisses all over his face. His eyes are half-lidded and his mouth is a bruised, swollen red, the same color as his slick little hole. Erik’s cock throbs with the thought. “Fuck me as long as it takes until you get me with pup. As long as it takes,” he sighs, squeezing around the knot, as randy as if he hadn’t already come twice.

Erik growls, teasing a bite over his omega’s heart and does exactly that.

 

X

 

There’s a leak in the roof again. Erik drags a bucket to the spot and calculates what he’ll need to get it fixed. The cottage is old and a little weathered around the edges, but it’s cozy and simple, large enough to support a growing pack. He and Charles had found it not long after they’d properly mated, and Charles had immediately fallen in love with its quaint facade. Whatever scents the cottage had housed had long gone, washed away by rain and time. There was still furniture left here by the former owner: a rocking chair, a table, a bed, heavy things that weren’t looted by bandits. The hearth still worked and the door was still sturdy, and with joy in their hearts, it hadn’t been a hardship at all to prepare a house into a home.

Now Charles is humming as he finishes stewing dinner. His face is clear of worry lines and he looks young, vibrant and happy. Erik can’t help but buss a kiss to the top of his head.

“What are you smiling about?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“You have a secret, I can tell.” Erik winds his arms around him, and Charles settles comfortably against his chest. They have the simplest of lives, but it’s the happiest Erik has ever been. There’s food on the table, a warm bed to sleep in, a pup to raise, and a mate to come home to.

“Maybe.”

“Might I know?”

Charles spares a glance at their first pup sleeping on her cot, almost three springs old already. Erik follows his gaze and appraises little Lorna curled into a ball and sucking her thumb. “I was thinking of names for the new one.”

“New one?”

With a winsome grin over his shoulder, Charles settles Erik’s hands over his abdomen.

**Author's Note:**

> [pangeasplits.tumblr.com](http://pangeasplits.tumblr.com)   
>  [velvetcadence.tumblr.com](http://velvetcadence.tumblr.com)


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